Come Up & Try My New Parts
by Wandergirl108
Summary: The deleted sex scene we all know and love, fleshed out, tidied up a bit, and given context and a proper conclusion. Chapter 1 is the scene from Graverobber's POV, chapter 2 from Amber's POV…and you may be surprised by some of the things they were thinking and feeling. I claim no practice or talent in writing porn, I simply did my best to be accurate.
1. Graverobber's Fantasy

He had always wanted her.

Impressive, that - Graverobber _never_ wanted. Oh sure, he could take just fine - any junkie in the city could tell you that - but being a whore was part of his job description, completely inevitable; he forced it, because he had to. But for him to actually _want_ - to look at someone and feel actual _lust_? Never. He didn't. He couldn't. It wasn't even about the people around him, he simply didn't have the capacity for it - that he couldn't feel lust was a fact of nature, a rule.

Just like the rule that all junkies look as repulsive and fucked-up on the outside as they are on the inside. Just like the rule that anything Rotti would kill Graverobber for made Graverobber feel content with being alive.

Just like every other fucking rule she broke.

God, how he hated her.

He dealt with the scum of the earth every day - it had stopped bothering him before he'd even come to Italy to deal in Rotti's backyard. Most junkies knew their place: They were dependent on him, subservient to him; he was their king, their master. They'd lick the grave soil off his boots for a hit without hesitation and they knew it - even when they tried to act like they had any sort of worth, a mere mention of the blue glow and they were reduced to less than animals. They were pitiful, really. They disgusted him, sure, but he didn't hate them - in the end, they were the victims.

But her? God damn it, _her_…_She_ expected _him_ to lick _her_ boots if she asked him to - him and anyone else who crossed her path. _Worship me,_ she told everyone she laid eyes on, _I am your queen, bow down to me, do my bidding, grovel at my feet._ Her demeanor was high and mighty and contemptuous, even when she was desperate for a hit - she sneered at him for asking to be paid, as though her attention, her very presence, ought to be payment enough for him. She looked down on him, treated him like scum, even as she relied on him, and damn it, she had no right to disrespect him at all, the disgusting scalpel slut.

Absolute control over oneself, in terms of both mind and body, was a necromerchant's most important and valuable tool - it easily meant the difference between life and death on a daily basis - and if there was anything that threatened to break Graverobber's self-control someday, it was _her_: No matter how irksome or downright despicable she acted, he couldn't tell her how much he hated her, couldn't put her in her place - antagonizing a paying customer was against the rules of his business, and even if it hadn't been, he couldn't risk driving her away, because she was his ultimate rebellion. He should have _loved_ that the spawn of Rotti Largo leaked GeneCo's funds into his pockets in exchange for the drug he broke GeneCo's laws to harvest, and he _did_ love it, but the cost? Damn it…sometimes, he thought too damn high.

And yet, he wanted her. He hated it, even hated himself for it, but _f__ucking hell_, how he wanted her. She was as gorgeous on the outside as she was wretched on the inside, and even though he _knew_ her body was as fake as it was beautiful…oh, how he _dreamed_ of that fake perfect body pressed against his. The fantasy tormented him whether he was awake or asleep, constantly, relentlessly; from the moment he'd met her five years after setting up on the island, his job as a whore had become so much easier, because all he had to do was close his eyes and imagine her and _damn_, it was good.

He knew she knew it. Of course she knew it - why else would she spend several minutes taunting him every time she came to see him, no matter how pressed for time she claimed to be? Oh, it was never direct, she never _said_ anything to really _suggest_ what was on his mind; but every movement she made…the little dances she did for him, just subtly enough that she could say he was imagining it if he tried to call her out on it…the tone of her voice as she spoke, the gleam in her eye and the way she smirked at him even as she demanded a hit, mocked him, told him he was scum…_God_, how she made him _want_.

The worst part was that he didn't _really_ have to put up with her shit. Sure, it was against the rules of his business to ever antagonize a paying customer, but the rules could be bent in certain situations, and _she_ was antagonizing _him_ in the first place; and sure, it might risk driving her away, but she _was_ an addict, and he _was_ the only necromerchant on Sanitarium Island. He could simply refuse to play her game, not spitefully, just practically. Instead of let slip any indication of his hatred for her, though, he played along, let her taunt him, let her treat him like dirt, and was never anything but warm and polite in return, because every time she came to him, he couldn't help but hope - _pray_ - that maybe this time, _maybe this time_, she'd _finally_ let him touch her.

But she never did.

No…The _real_ worst part was that he _would_ lick her boots, if she promised to fuck him right after.

For the most part, he blamed his job for his obsession. After all, being a necromerchant wasn't just a profession, it was an entire way of life - it dictated everything he did, every aspect of his day, all of it was a ritual he had to follow until he died or got too old; and if he did live long enough to get too old to do his job, he'd only be able to become a necroman, a go-between for the necromerchants and the rest of the world that existed so that dealers didn't even have to show themselves to buy food. And after that? Well, the job hadn't been around quite long enough for anyone to have lived that long yet, but Graverobber had a feeling it would involve eating a gun of a very different sort to the one he was used to firing. He had nothing to look forward to in life. All he had was his job, his rebellion - every moment he spent as a necromerchant on Sanatarium Island was the closest he could get to spitting in Rotti's face; and sure, that was more than enough to keep him content, but it wasn't something for him to _want_, it was simply a thing that _was_.

_Everyone_ needs _something_ to look forward to, some dream, some vision of a future - it's simply human nature. Graverobber hated the way the world was and wished, deep down, that he could have seen a world not run by Rotti and GeneCo, it was true, but he knew that it was a waste of time to hope for the world to escape from the hellhole it had become, and he'd given up on praying for some spark of humanity to kindle a new flame somewhere in the world long ago. He had no dreams of the end of Rotti and GeneCo, no fantasy of a time when anything but sex and the pursuit of genetic perfection would mean shit to anyone, no vision of a day when Repo-men wouldn't stalk the streets and make them run with the blood of those who lost their usefulness to the monster who ruled the globe. Even when he heard that Blind Mag was going to retire from GeneCo despite her contract in blood, he felt no hope - the damage had been done, and the noble act would go unrecognized, incomprehensible to everyone else in the world, he knew.

The only thing he had to look forward to, to hope for, was…_her_.

Until, one night, it wasn't.

The night of Blind Mag's last opera, he was out robbing graves for the glowing blue rot that turned humans into vermin, when by chance, he saw a young girl. A pretty girl, really - clearly not an addict of any kind; he wondered how she had gotten there, for she seemed lost, even though graveyards were impossible to get into this time of night without a lot of effort. More than that, though, she was _terrified_. When she saw him, her eyes widened with fear - not the fear of meeting a criminal with a bounty on his head, but the fear of something unknown to her. And that was impossible - _everyone_ knew what necromerchants looked like and what they did, necromerchants were unmistakeable, _uniformed_, for shit's sake!

But she didn't know. It was made very clear by her wide, terrified eyes, her shaky breathing, her hands partway raised in front of her face as though to shield herself from the very sight of him: She had no idea who or what he was. He drew some Zydrate from a corpse as she looked on, terrified and fascinated and utterly _confused_, and even when he held it up to her, showed her what he was holding, there was no spark of recognition or understanding in her eyes. Somehow, impossibly, Rotti's poison hadn't corrupted her, hadn't even touched her, even though she lived in the same goddamn city as the bastard.

She was innocent.

And if there could be an innocent person _here_, on Sanatarium Island…

Oh, how inspiring that sight had been. How thrilled and empowered Graverobber had felt, to know that he had been wrong, that there _were_ still human beings in the world, that he wasn't alone. Just to show off to this wondrous girl, this glimmer of hope that had finally answered his secret prayers, he finally did what he'd wanted to do for over a decade: He stood up straight and shouted at the top of his lungs, right there in the middle of the graveyard, drawing the attention of every guard out there, _daring_ Rotti's minions to try and stop him. Of course, instead of impressed, the girl had been scared nearly to death. But that was even better. Not only was she not corrupted, she was somehow _so_ pure and innocent that she didn't even _realize_ that she wasn't corrupted - she didn't consciously rebel, she was simply _free_.

And in being so, she set him free, too.

So when Amber Sweet came around later that night, sneering at Graverobber that way she always did, for the first time, he was able to meet her eyes coldly and unfeelingly, without any desire. He had something better to desire, something better to believe in, now. He had a better dream.

Her expression faltered for only a split second, but Graverobber saw it, and it thrilled him. Then she recovered.

"What's the matter, Graverobber?" she taunted. "Can't get it up if the girl's breathing?" She walked over to stand in front of him and snapped a whip in her hand suggestively.

He just looked at her with contempt and disgust.

She ignored his brush-off and started her little dance, always just too subtle for anyone to call her out on trying to seduce him but suggestive all the same, and started her usual plethora of high-and-mighty demands.

"Z me," she commanded; "I need a hit, and I'm late, so hurry - don't keep my surGENs waiting-"

"Bitch, pay me," Graverobber spat, cutting her off. Normally, he would have let her talk herself out, waited his turn - that was the game, and he knew his part. Tonight, though, he wasn't going to play it. _Never again_ was he going to play it.

She was squatting when he interrupted her, showing off her crotch, and without missing a beat, she started crawling towards him, both showing off her tits and painting a picture of climbing on top of someone to fuck them in the least subtle gesture he'd ever seen her make. "Later," she said huskily.

He didn't bat an eye. "Okay," he said coolly, walking away, "I'll see you later." Her guards, whom Graverobber forgot even existed half the time, stood in the way of the direction he wanted to go, blocking him, but he just turned around to go the other way - he knew the alleys well enough, he could get to where he was going whether they let him take the most direct route or not.

"Where're you going?" Amber exclaimed, standing up and giving him a little shove he didn't know how to interpret. "Stay here!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, walking away without another word or glance at her. Not antagonizing her, as per the rule of his business, but not putting up with her shit, either.

Then she kept talking.

"There's ways for me to pay, dear, other than dough."

It took a moment for Graverobber's brain to process her words. When it did, he slowed to a stop, his eyes wide. Surely, she _couldn't_ mean…?

He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't resist looking back at her, just to see for sure that she didn't mean it. The sight that met his eyes made him feel like he'd been punched in the gut.

She'd given her coat and whip to one of her bodyguards, leaving her in nothing but a corset that was just a little too tight and thigh-high boots. She cupped her breasts, then slowly rubbed her way down her body to her hips, her thighs, forcing him to follow the movement with his eyes and _look_ at her.

"I want a hit of Z," she told him huskily, "and we're not talking for free."

She started using her bodyguards to show off her body, making one of them touch her, then touching the other, teasing Graverobber with images of what he could do with her. Graverobber wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He was mesmerized - he'd dreamed of this for five years, how _could_ he look away?

"I'm thinking more of a game of give-and-take," Amber went on, still working her bodyguards, her tone oh so very seductive. "And baby, I'll give 'til I _break_."

Graverobber wasn't conscious of the fact that he'd started walking back over to her, drawn like a moth to a flame. He wasn't conscious of anything, really - her voice, her words, drowned out rational thought, and the sight of her…_Damn_, why did she have to be so sexy?

"I may be a bitch, but I ain't nobody's fool - this bitch knows the rules," she continued, using her guards to support her while she showed off the most private part of her body.

Graverobber was just repulsed enough to stop moving towards her like a fucking magnet, but he couldn't turn away; he crouched down by the side of the alley and took his pack off his back mindlessly. The customer chooses the form of payment, after all…If she was offering payment, he had to accept it…_Had_ to, no choice, not _his_ fault…

Now she stepped away from her guards and stalked across the space he'd left between them, every step suggestive, before getting on the ground and showing off her body on her own, running a hand all along her leg and then flexing her entire body.

"I'll let you fuck my soul for a hit of that glow," she told him.

_Your _soul_ is a vile and disgusting thing that I'd rather have nothing to do with,_ Graverobber thought, too entranced to say it out loud. _Your _body_, on the other hand…_

"So come on," she said, her voice getting more assertive. "Climb on." She pushed herself up, then lunged at him, shoving him hard against the wall. "Man up!"

Before he knew what was happening, she grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him to his feet, and somehow twisted and pulled so that her body was sandwiched between him and the wall, her back to him. She was still talking, but his brain didn't have enough room to process her words, because she stuck out her ass and rubbed it hard against his arousal and _god damn it_, when had his cock gotten so hard? He had to move up and down with her slightly, he was so stiff. She tilted her head back, and he leaned his head into her neck helplessly, panting, breathing in her heady scent, his hands reaching down to grab her perfect ass and pull her harder against him, this little tease wasn't nearly enough…!

She spun around to face him, forcing him to release his grip, and he put his hands on either side of her against the wall as she arched her back, pressing her groin against his, still saying something seductive. He saw her glance at something to his side for a split second, and he turned his head to see one of her guards standing there, a whip in his hand. He turned his head in the other direction, and there was the other one. He then looked at Amber questioningly, his lust cooling for a moment, replaced by wariness.

She smiled wickedly. "Oh, don't mind them," she told Graverobber, "they won't bother us." She looked at them, still smirking nastily. "Boys, give us some privacy, won't you?" she told them.

They turned around and marched away down either side of the alley, turning the nearest corners and out of sight.

"There," Amber purred, commanding Graverobber's attention once more as she placed her hands on his chest. "Not only will they not bother us, they'll make sure no one else can come along and bother us, either." He felt her hands slide downwards before he realized that she was getting on her knees. "You have me all to yourself," she told him huskily as her hands reached his belt. "We can do this however you like…You can take me _any way you want_…" She started unbuckling his belt and pants. He mindlessly took off his coat and threw it aside, it was too hot, he couldn't breathe. "You know you _want_ to take me," Amber added as she unzipped his jeans, taking a tiny bit of the strain off his aching cock.

He looked down her upturned face, making eye contact, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a very different face flashed in his mind's eye momentarily, one that had looked up at him with fear instead of lust. He remembered the girl in the graveyard, the new hope he had found. He blinked, and the face he saw was Amber's again, but he hesitated.

_You don't have to do this,_ said his conscience. _She doesn't know that you have to take whatever payment your customers offer, and the rules aren't set in stone. There's a better world, there's more out there than this, you don't have to give in. You know you're better than this, you're above her, you don't have to be her whore._

_If you do this,_ the voice in his head went on, _you won't deserve the better world you glimpsed tonight. You know better than to succumb to Amber's dance as though this is all there is. If you do this anyway, even knowing the truth, you'll be the scum she always implied you were. You'll be vile, rotten, worthless - you won't be able to live with yourself, the most disgusting person you've ever known, even worse than her, because _you know better_. Don't do this…_

"What's the matter, Graverobber?" Amber taunted, wriggling against him slightly, the very movement of her lips as she spoke deliberately seductive.

And Graverobber, who prided himself in his self-control, snapped.

He put his hands around her neck and dropped to his knees all at once. No, he couldn't resist, not after five years of torture, not even knowing that there was something better worth living for, he couldn't pass this up, this wasn't a dream, this was real and happening and _he could not walk away_.

"Take me!" Amber gasped, tilting her head to the side as he brushed her hair behind her shoulder with one hand, still gripping the side of her neck with the other. He couldn't miss the triumph in her voice - she _knew_ he was helpless - but damn it, he was beyond caring. "I can take it, baby!" she taunted.

Acting purely on instinct - he'd never wanted like this, never done anything like this - Graverobber placed his tongue against the bare flesh of Amber's shoulder and quickly licked his way up her neck, not even noticing the surgical stitches around her collarbone as his tongue skipped over them. _Sweet hell_, she tasted good, like…like something he'd forgotten, something that tickled at a lost memory of another life, but something _delicious_, something _sweet_, true to her name.

"I don't care where you put it," Amber told him, breathless now, telling him that she was enjoying this too, a fact that stoked Graverobber's desire all the more; "why don't you surprise me?"

Holding her against him like this, tasting her…wasn't enough.

Panting, he put his mouth by her ear. "Dance for me first," he growled.

Because if he was going to sacrifice every last bit of dignity and self-respect he had left, then he was damn well going to make sure it was worth it.

She laughed softly and leaned away, arching her back so far that she rose to her feet, bending straight again in an impressive display of gymnastic ability that Graverobber knew of only too well but wanted to see more of - this was the first time he was allowed to truly enjoy it, and he knew it would probably be the last, so he was going to milk it for all it was worth.

She started showing off her body, every position she could twist into that would turn him on all the more, every movement that would get him to look closely at her and _want_. She was impressively flexible, really, though he'd already seen more than enough over the years to know that; but this time, he sometimes reached out and touched her, giving in to impulses he had always internalized before, almost taking part in her gymnastic display. Sometimes she'd even look at him as he grabbed at her and grin wickedly, flexing whatever part of her he had ahold of, reinforcing his desires. "Come on," she taunted, "work me."

He didn't know if he'd had enough, but he couldn't wait any longer, the throbbing in his cock was too painful, and as her movements took her onto her back, he started to get on top of her-

And out of nowhere, she kicked him hard in the side, the movement so unexpected it sent him tumbling to the ground away from her as she scrambled to her feet. He looked up at her, not understanding, and she smirked at him. "Come on, you know you like it naughty," she goaded.

He didn't know what she meant, but he got to his feet…

"Oh, naughty boy," Amber teased, "_take me_! And I ain't askin-"

And suddenly, somehow, he knew, and he lunged at her, just as she jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and slammed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers.

"Come on," she gasped as he reached one hand down to yank the remaining cloth that separated them out of the way. He guided his fully-freed cock between her legs quickly, grasped her hips, and thrust upward into her as hard as he could.

Pleasure slammed through his body, unlike anything he could possibly have ever _dreamed_. He cried out as she gasped and arched against him, barely noticing her movement. He lifted her so he could pull out, then rammed into her again, barely able to breathe for the incredible rush he was getting. In that moment, as he thrust into her again and her hands fell to grip his shoulders, it was worth it, _anything_ was worth it; he felt no shame or remorse.

He only felt _her_.

And fucking her against the wall was fine and good, but he needed to drive into her, to pound into her, needed gravity on his side as he took everything he could. Still inside her, he spun away from the wall so that he'd have some space. He couldn't help but look up at her as he did so, and the wicked smirk she gave him was almost unbearable. He got down slowly, first to his knees, then leaning forward, taking care not to crack her skull against the concrete; she took her hands off him and held her arms out behind her back to brace herself, and he took her all the way down to the water-covered ground.

Had he had one less iota of self-control, he would have lasted two, maybe three more thrusts before climaxing; as it was, he was just barely able to grit his teeth and force each burst of pleasure into submission as he fucked Amber roughly. He _needed_ to make this last, to take as long as possible, he couldn't let it end soon, it was his one chance - he was trading his soul for this, for fuck's sake! But it felt so good, it was so difficult to pace himself, to force it back…It took so much effort to do so that he didn't really get _why_ it was so difficult until Amber tilted her head up and pressed her lips against his for a moment. And then he understood.

The problem was that she was fucking him right back.

When they offered their bodies to pay for Zydrate, junkies would basically just lie still and let their dealer do whatever to them, but they never actually put any effort into it themselves - after all, sex wasn't even what they wanted. But Amber? Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his back; her body arched against him, her hips rising to meet his with every thrust; and she gasped and moaned with pleasure, hot and wet and tight as he slid in and out of her. He really shouldn't have been surprised, he would later reflect - if even three-fourths of the rumors about her were true, she'd fuck literally anything on two legs for no reason whatsoever.

Unfortunately, it made enjoying this and making it last extremely difficult. If he could just get her to stop moving…!

It wasn't an idea that came to him, merely a reflex: When a junkie desperate enough to pay for a hit with sex got too uncomfortable to continue due to a sheer lack of actually being into it, the sight of a vial of Zydrate could completely immobilize them. As a rule, junkies didn't want sex, they wanted Zydrate, and while Amber was a slut, surely she'd be just as entranced by the sight of the glow…wouldn't she?

Well, at any rate, it was worth a try, he couldn't hold on much longer like this…

Graverobber pulled back, not out all the way but enough to get Amber's attention, and reached for his belt and pulled out a vial of Zydrate. Amber looked at him, and he moved back over her, holding out the vial as though to give it to her. Her eyes caught on the glowing drug and held, and she reached to grab it without hesitation. Just before her fingers caught it, though, he pulled it back, just out of her grasp. She tried to grab it again, and he quickly raised it high, out of her reach.

She stared at the vial being held tauntingly above her. There was silence for a moment, save for their heavy breathing.

"Now hold still, damn it!" Graverobber growled.

But before he could resume, Amber's eyes shifted from the vial to him. She gave him a wide grin, almost laughing, then suddenly sat up into him, wrapped her arms around his head, and crushed her lips against his.

Fuck. Just like every other fucking rule…

She ground her hips against his slowly, slightly, causing just enough friction over his cock to make him shiver, as she claimed his mouth, hard. Acting purely on reflex, he kissed her back, matching her forcefulness, his free hand tangling in her raven hair, still somehow having enough sense not to lower the hand that held up the vial of Zydrate. _Damn_, she tasted good! And the feeling of her lips against his…It was strange, his lips almost felt like they hurt, but it was a _good_ hurt, and he wanted more…

Graverobber was so deep in Amber's kiss that he didn't notice when one arm released its grip on his head, didn't sense the hand that slowly traced its way up his upraised arm, didn't feel her fingers intertwining with his around the vial of Zydrate, until with a final jerk, she yanked the vial out of his hand, breaking the kiss at the same time to give him a triumphant grin. Graverobber's arm came down quickly to stop her from getting away, though he didn't know whether he was going to try to take back the vial or just grab onto her and force her to finish "paying" him.

Then, suddenly, Amber set the little glass vial on the ground beside them, then gave it a small flick with the tip of her finger, causing it to roll away from them until gently hitting the wall of the alley with a soft _clink!_

Graverobber stared at the cast-aside vial of drugs, utterly bewildered, then looked at Amber again. She gave him the nastiest, most devilish smile he'd ever seen on her (which was saying something)…and then, simultaneously, they both forcefully crashed their bodies and lips together and resumed fucking, this time even harder.

It was with some reserve of inner strength that Graverobber hadn't known he'd possessed that he managed to continue fighting his release, even as they began to fuck with an animalistic intensity, clawing and biting at each other, gasping against each others' mouths as though each hoped to inhale the other, him thrusting into her so hard and deep he'd surely make her bleed. It was mindless and incredible and nearly drowned him in ecstasy, but he managed to hold on somehow.

Then, all of a sudden, Amber pulled her mouth away from him and screamed. Graverobber felt her entire body spasm, and her inner muscles began to ripple around his cock rhythmically. He knew what that meant, even if it was something he'd only barely heard of.

And it was with that that he absolutely could not take it anymore; he thrust into her one last time, and came.

Sheer bliss crashed through him like a tidal wave, driving away _everything_ - any thoughts or feelings there might have been in his head, his memories, his personality, his use of his five external senses, even his sense of time and space were completely wiped away, leaving nothing but pleasure that went beyond 'so intense it hurt'. He didn't hear or feel himself roar his release, didn't feel Amber crawl out from under him, didn't feel the hard concrete beneath him or the half-inch of water he was left lying in.

He had no idea, no way of knowing, how long it lasted - it could have been a second or a century - but eventually, the incredible sensation began to fade and allow the rest of him to surface back into existence. As he became aware of his heavy panting and the water that was half-threatening to drown him, he heard Amber saying something, but he couldn't process her words. He tried to move, to speak, to command his body to do _something_, but all he managed was a pitiful groan and a slight twitch in his extremities.

He heard Amber's mocking laughter echo in the alley.

"Well, well, look who's awake," she said tauntingly. He heard her heels click against the concrete for a moment, then a slight pause before he felt her breath tickle his ear. "That was fun, Graverobber," she whispered; "let's do it again sometime." He felt her tongue quickly swipe the skin behind his ear, and he gave an involuntary moan at the touch.

Again, he heard her cruel laughter. "Come on, boys," she said, presumably to her bodyguards, her heels clicking on the ground again as she walked away; "I don't know if I have enough time to get cut again before the Z gathering, but it's worth checking to find out."

_The Z gathering._ It was supposed to happen in just a few minutes, and Graverobber hadn't even managed to pilfer a Zydrate gun from one of the tents in Sanatarium Square yet. Of all the lousy times for her to…

He gritted his teeth and forced his muscles to push him up into a sitting position, grunting from the effort. His head spun for a moment, but he held on. For a moment, he just sat there, panting, desperately trying to catch his breath and gather up the strength to get going. He tucked himself back into his clothes and re-zipped and -buckled his pants and belt. His coat, where was his coat? He looked around to see where he'd tossed it against the wall of the alley. Finding it, he tried to stand and walk over to it, but his knees refused to support him, and he stumbled and fell. He tried again, but was forced to drag himself over to his discarded uniform. He felt weak and pathetic, completely unused to his body not being able to obey the commands he gave it.

He sat leaning against the wall next to his coat, again trying to catch his breath, this time giving himself the time he needed.

"Damn you, you bitch," he muttered aloud under his breath; despite everything fucking Amber had cost him - his dignity, his self-respect, his strength, his self-control, and any value he might have ever had - it had been so incredible, he knew he would never regret it. "Damn you…"


	2. Amber Sweet's Nightmare

Power and control were Miss Amber Sweet's bread and butter.

Everyone said she was addicted to the knife. Most people also said that she was addicted to street Zydrate. A handful of those who kept up with more than half of the rumors of her personal life for whatever sick reason would even have said she was addicted to sex. But the truth was, all of those things were secondary, more like symptoms than original causes of their own.

Surgery?

_"Take control of your life, because it's what's on the inside that counts." "Everybody, everybody make your genetics your bitch!"_

Amber had absolute control over her entire body, every piece hand-picked, designed, perfected, and replaced as soon as it began to lose its luster. Nothing was in her body that she didn't command to be there. Well, except that one organ system for which her father had threatened to disown her if she got it surgically altered, but most of that organ system was useless to her anyway, and the part that wasn't functioned perfectly well as it was.

Zydrate?

_"I can't feel nothing at all!"_

What was pain but a slave driver? Living things were naturally slaves to pain. Not Amber - Zydrate protected her from that. She could _watch_ her organs be replaced and improved on, nothing happened to her body without her knowing it; she could do anything, and nothing could get in her way - thanks to Z, she would never bow down to pain.

And sex?

Well, why had her father invented GENterns in the first place?

Living things were slaves to pleasure as much as to pain, and Amber Sweet could bring pleasure to _anyone_. There was no non-solo sex act you could name that she hadn't mastered - any fetish, any pose, any type of sex her female anatomy allowed, she had done it all and then some. She'd even been gang-raped a couple of times and enjoyed the hell out of it, had to _beg_ her father not to press charges the second time, even allowed her father to attach two robot bodyguards to her who followed her wherever she went in exchange for him not making a fuss - she didn't mind people not asking first, it just meant that they were that much more enslaved to her through their desire.

Not just princess of the world, Miss Sweet strived to be desire incarnate, to be the very image of every man's fantasy, and she succeeded. Oh, of course, she enjoyed fucking for the same reasons as anyone else, and she had her preferences to how she liked it, but she would fuck absolutely anyone, any way they liked, if only for the satisfaction of knowing that they were helpless to resist her. Between a sex life to rival that of her brother Pavi, her limitless money, her many surgeries each day, and her social status as the daughter of the king…Yeah, it was good to be Amber Sweet.

It was good to be her lover, too, as long as it lasted - she'd go all out on anyone, push them as far over the edge as possible. She took as much control as she could in one go, because she never planned to see the same person twice. That's not to say she would go out of her way to _avoid_ fucking the same person more than once, but repeat performances were never her plan, so she would give and take as much as possible right from the start. The few people she _did_ see on a regular basis were mostly people whom it would be impractical of her to control with sex anyway, for varying reasons.

There was just one exception: the local necromerchant.

Rotti had cut Amber off from GeneCo's stock of Zydrate as soon as he'd found out about her addiction, then had set up the Zydrate Support Network and forced her to take the credit for it, just to save face - after all, her being an addict further tainted his image, and lord knew her brothers did enough of that anyway. Not that she tried to do any better. Still, without access to GeneCo's stock, and without _lack_ of access to her family wealth, she had no choice but to buy from an illegal dealer. She had a feeling her father knew, but as long as it couldn't be proven to the public, he let it slide.

Graverobber was nothing extraordinary in Amber's eyes. Yeah, not bad looking - sexy, even, in a dark kind of way - and not the dullest scalpel on the tray, though also not the sharpest, but there was nothing particularly special about him; as a person, he was _meh_.

Except that he wasn't a person - he was a bum, a street rat. He was scum, filth, so far beneath her that he wasn't even worthy of her notice, and she would never have granted it to him if it hadn't been for the miracle drug he peddled. That she, the daughter of the king of the world, had to rely on that bottom feeder for _anything_ sometimes made her feel sick.

All the same, he was a creature capable of desire, and as such, she could control him. She knew he wanted her desperately, that she was his most treasured - if not only - fantasy. It was nothing unusual, she'd seen men look at her with even more longing and desperation than Graverobber (and who could blame them?); unfortunately for Graverobber, he had the rotten luck of being a person she needed to have control over indefinitely, for days and months and years on end. As a result, she didn't fuck him for the sake of absolute control for a few minutes, and instead tormented him with little taunts and gestures day in and day out, wrapping him around her little finger and dragging him around on a string while he panted at her like the mutt he was - _her_ mutt.

She knew he knew her game, too, and that he hated her for it.

Poor bastard.

Of course, she _could_ have given him the best fuck of his life and jerked him around on a string that way, but tormenting him without giving him anything was just as effective, and though few people would believe it, Miss Sweet _did_ have _some_ standards - there were some lows to which even she refused to stoop unless she had to, and letting a street rat touch her was one of them. She _didn't_ have to - he would do absolutely _anything_ for her in the hopes of getting a chance to fuck her - so everything was perfect; like anyone else, he was her puppet, her plaything. To Amber, Graverobber was nothing but a source of Z and a slightly different kind of amusement than usual.

Until, one night, he wasn't.

Only those who knew her well would have been able to see it, but the night of Blind Mag's final opera, Amber Sweet was in an _exceptionally_ good mood. _Finally_, that ungrateful bitch who had overshadowed Amber all her life and taken Amber's rightful place in Rotti Largo's heart as the apple of his eye was going to get the full repo treatment; it was no less than she deserved, and Amber was truly ecstatic. Just one last stupid fucking opera where the peasants went all goo-goo eyed at the sound of that fucking perfect soprano voice, and Miss Sweet would never have to put up with Mag's existence again. It was a very good night, Amber thought, as she blew off a press conference to pester Graverobber for a hit, walking through the back alleys where water half an inch deep covered the pavement and neon lights gave everything a surreal hue.

She found him, tucked away in an alcove in a wall of the alley, not knowing or caring what he was doing there. He looked up at the sound of her approaching, and she gave him her best, nastiest smirk as his eyes met hers. For some reason, though, that flare of lust she always saw in his eyes upon her arrival didn't show, only the ice-cold anger she was also used to.

Strange…

Amber faltered for a moment, confused, then decided that he must be in a bad mood for some reason and to think nothing of it. She proceeded as usual.

"What's the matter, Graverobber?" she taunted. "Can't get it up if the girl's breathing?" She walked over to stand in front of him in her long, shiny, black coat, suggestively snapping a whip she held in her hand gently against the ground.

He just made a weird face at her that contained some combination of contempt and disgust, making a gesture with his hands as though dusting dirt off of them, and said nothing.

Only Amber's exceptionally good mood kept her from getting pissed off at his sudden indifference - surely, she couldn't be losing control over him _tonight_, of all nights. She proceeded with her taunting little dance, moving all over the place suggestively in just subtly enough of a way that she could claim innocence if someone tried to call her out on it.

"Z me," she commanded Graverobber, "I need a hit, and I'm late, so hurry - don't keep my surGENs waiting-"

"Bitch, pay me," Graverobber spat, cutting her off.

Again with the not playing her game! Something was wrong, and Amber decided to ramp it up a bit. Having been brought by her little dance into a crouching position, she leaned forward, deliberately lowering her chest to give Graverobber the best possible view of her cleavage, and crawled towards him, slow and catlike and suggestive and not nearly as subtle as what she usually went for with him.

"Later," she said, adding an extra-husky edge to her tone.

But his eyes didn't even spark. "Okay," he said coolly as he started walking away, "I'll see you later." Amber's bodyguards blocked him from walking further in the direction he started in, but he simply turned around and started going the other way.

Impossible.

"Where're you going?" Amber exclaimed, getting to her feet. "Stay here!"

She didn't miss the little headshake he made as he walked away without another word.

He wasn't under her control anymore. Somehow, his fantasy of touching her wasn't the most important thing in his life all of a sudden. Maybe he'd given up, more likely he'd found something else to replace it, but either way, her control had slipped.

And Amber Sweet simply could not have that.

Taking off her coat, which one of her bodyguards automatically reached over to help her with and take from her, she made a split-second decision to get Graverobber back.

"There's ways for me to pay, dear, other than dough," she said.

Just a quick fuck. No big deal, just what she needed to do to get him back under her thumb. Fucking street rat…

She watched as he slowed to a stop, then turned around. The moment she knew he could see her, she cupped her breasts in her hands, rubbed over them quickly, then began sliding her hands down her stomach, her hips, her thigh…She felt his eyes on her, watching her, scorching her with his desire, and she suppressed a triumphant smile; his lust for her was _far_ from gone, she'd known it was.

"I want a hit of Z," she told Graverobber, making her voice slow and seductive, "and we're not talking for free."

She turned to her right and shamelessly straddled one of her bodyguards while still standing up, dragging his hand to her ass and forcing him to caress her leg; the idiot obeyed her nonverbal commands like a flesh puppet.

"I'm thinking more of a game of give and take," Amber went on as she turned around to press her ass against the crotch of her one bodyguard and run her hands down the bare chest of the other, taunting Graverobber with images of some of the gentler things she'd do to him; "and baby, I'll give 'til I _break_."

Graverobber was walking back over to her now, looking like he wasn't even making any sort of conscious effort to do so. Amber felt a thrill when she saw the look in his eyes: He was utterly hypnotized by her, completely under her control.

_That's more like it._

She leaned back, allowing her bodyguards to lift her up as she lifted and parted her legs, just to push the envelope a bit. "I may be a bitch, but I ain't nobody's fool - this bitch knows the rules," she told Graverobber. It was true, too, more true than he would have guessed - she'd heard of junkies paying for Zydrate with sex before, and more importantly, she had _never_ heard of Graverobber turning down such an offer. Either he really loved to fuck, or he operated under some principle that meant he _had_ to accept whichever type of payment he was offered…and Amber had always had a strong suspicion that it was the latter. Selfish and stuck-up she may have been, but she definitely wasn't stupid.

Her bodyguards put her down as Graverobber crouched down by the wall and took off his pack, and she removed her hands from the two goons and stalked over to where Graverobber was looking up at her from, making each step suggestive.

"I'll let you fuck my soul for a hit of that glow," she told him, getting down on the ground herself, rubbing all along one leg before flexing her entire body. She knew she didn't have to work half as hard to seduce him as she was, but he'd had the audacity to not play her game, so she was going to do her best to drive him fucking _insane_.

She turned on him. "So come on," she taunted, "climb on." She lunged at him and shoved him against the wall. "Man up!" she shouted in his bewildered face.

In one quick movement, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifted him to his feet, and twisted around so that she was between him and the wall, her back to him. "Come up and try my new parts," she mocked him, sticking out her ass and rubbing it against his arousal; "come on and break 'em in. We both know what we want…"

She said the words without thinking about them, throwing back her head and gasping as she felt his rock-hard cock press against her, bringing on an intense rush of arousal.

…Wait, what?

Graverobber leaned over her, she could feel his breath on her neck, and he reached down with both hands and grabbed her ass.

_ZAP!_

A white-hot bolt of electricity sizzled through Amber's body at his touch; it was all she could do to bite back a moan of pleasure. _Fuck_, that felt good…

…Wait, what the _fuck_? She'd had her ass grabbed plenty of times, by much more handsome, much more desperate, and much, _much_ worthier men than this lowlife! Why did _he_ feel so…_amazing_…?

_What's wrong with me?_ Amber wondered momentarily.

Oh well, it didn't matter; it wasn't like she had the option of stopping now, whatever her problem was. Besides, maybe this would actually turn out to be a little fun. That would be nice. Right?

Amber turned around, forcing Graverobber to release his grip, and he raised his hands and pressed them against the wall on either side of her as she arched her back to press her groin against his. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her bodyguards standing next to them. She glanced at him momentarily, then returned her focus to Graverobber. Graverobber, however, turned his head to see what she had looked at. He then turned his head the other way to see that her other bodyguard was standing on the other side of them. He looked at Amber then, the raging lust in his eyes giving way to a suspicious wariness.

Amber understood, and she smirked at him. "Oh, don't mind them, they won't bother us," she reassured him. She glanced at the two living robots. "Boys, give us some privacy, won't you?" she asked them sweetly, ever true to her name.

Without a word, both guards turned and walked down opposite ends of the alley, around the corners and out of sight. Amber knew that they were just beyond her field of vision, close enough to lend her immediate assistance if she needed it, but also far enough away that they'd keep anyone who might be wandering around from stumbling across the exchange between Amber Sweet and her drug dealer.

"There," she purred, placing her hands on Graverobber's chest and watching as the lust in his eyes returned full-force. "Not only will they not bother us, they'll make sure no one else can come along and bother us, either." She slowly slid her hands down Graverobber's chest as she sank to her knees. "You have me all to yourself," she told him, her voice husky, as her hands reached his belt. "We can do this however you like…You can take me _any way you want_…" She began unbuckling his belt and pants as he took off his heavy coat and threw it aside. "You know you _want_ to take me," she added as she unzipped his pants. _She_ certainly knew - the proof was right under her hands.

He looked down at her, meeting her eyes, his desire so intense it could have burned her alive…and then, suddenly, there was a flicker of hesitation there, the fire dying down.

Well, Amber couldn't have _that_, now, could she?

"What's the matter, Graverobber?" she taunted, turning on every bit of seductive charm she had so that even the movement of her lips as she said the words was enticing.

She watched his self-control snap behind his eyes, and she knew she had conquered him completely. He dropped to his knees, putting his hands around her neck…and damn it, his touch felt good! So good that when she exclaimed "Take me!" as he brushed her hair behind her shoulder, baring the pale skin of her neck, instead of coming out as a command, as she had intended, it came out as a gasp of desire.

He licked his way along her shoulder and up her throat. Heat poured into her body from where his tongue touched her skin, filling her and burning her up, pooling especially between her legs…He felt so incredible, words she meant as mocking taunts came out instead as breathy whimpers: "I can take it, baby! I don't care where you put it; why don't you surprise me?"

What. The. _Fuck_? Why, _why_ did he feel so _good_? It didn't make any _sense_!

Then he pulled her closer, and she felt his breath tickle her ear. "Dance for me first," he growled, his voice so rough with arousal that she could barely understand him.

She laughed. Make him take his hands off her, then show off her body while he was rendered dumb by the sight, asserting absolute control over him? _Fuck_ yes. It was almost as if he knew exactly what she wanted from him and _wanted_ to give it to her, and was made all the more perfect by the fact that that _wasn't_ the case.

Amber arched her back, rising to her feet, smooth as a dancer. Graverobber gave her a little room, and she started twisting and flexing her body, her movements flowing, contorting into all sorts of positions that she knew would make him _want_. Sometimes he'd grab at her, and when he did, it was all she could do to not gasp at the heat of his touch. She hid it by grinning wickedly at him and flexing whatever he'd grabbed onto, driving him crazier in turn. "Come on, work me!" she taunted him.

She knew he literally couldn't take it anymore when, as her moves brought her onto her back, he started to climb on top of her. But that was moving forward on _his_ terms, and Amber wasn't going to let it go that way. She kicked him hard in the side, just under his armpit, and he fell to the side and away from her, pushed as much by surprise as by her own strength, she could tell. She scrambled to her feet, and he looked up at her from the ground, a tiny bit of confusion lacing the heat of his gaze.

"Come on," she urged him, smiling nastily, "you know you like it naughty."

He got to his feet, slowly.

"Oh, naughty boy," Amber teased him, "_take me_! And I ain't askin-"

He lunged at her suddenly, just as she jumped at him and wrapped her legs around his hips, and he slammed her into the wall, his body pressed hard against hers.

"Come on," she gasped, slightly winded from the force with which she'd hit the wet brick, as she felt him reach down and free his cock, guiding it between her legs. Poor bastard must practically be in pain-

Then Graverobber grasped her hips and pulled her down, thrusting up into her as hard as he could.

She had been mostly prepared for it, so Amber managed not to let out a scream of ecstasy at the intense pleasure that surged through her body, if only just. She couldn't contain a gasp, though, and she arched against Graverobber almost involuntarily. _Sweet hell_, he felt _incredible_!

…_Why_?

As he pulled out, then thrust into her again, and again, her hands, which she'd been holding over her head, dropped down to grasp him by his shoulders - she couldn't help it, he felt too good. She tightened her hold on him as he spun around, still inside her, and she looked down at him, smirking when he looked up at her. Then he dropped to his knees, lowering her to the ground slowly, carefully, almost as if he was some sort of gentleman or something. Amber held out her arms behind her to brace herself so he could go down faster. Then she was on the ground on her back, and Graverobber was on top of her, and he started fucking her roughly.

Amber gasped and moaned with pleasure as he took her, fighting the intensity of the rush but enjoying it all the same. She did her best to fuck him back, to pull him in, to thrust her own hips in time with his, but she easily could have lain there and done nothing and it would still have felt _amazing_. He felt _too_ good, damn it! And it didn't even make sense, he wasn't doing anything special - in fact, she could have been fooled into thinking this was his first time, he fucked like an amateur! But _god damn it_, he felt so _good_…The part of her that knew he was scum hoped he'd finish soon, before she did, so that she wouldn't have to live with the shame of having been brought to ecstasy by a street rat; but the hedonistic part of her wanted this to last, to find out just how intense her orgasm would be if she _did_ finish, and it wanted that _very_ badly.

Before she could stop herself, she tilted her head up to press her lips against his for a moment. Kissing wasn't exactly normal for her, but for some reason, it felt right just then. She quickly realized what she was doing and broke away, but…No, even if she couldn't deny anything else, she wasn't going to think about how his lips felt, that was going too far.

Suddenly, she felt him pull back, surprising her - she knew he hadn't cum yet. A second later, he slid into her again, leaning over her and holding out a vial of Zydrate.

Amber fastened her gaze on the glowing drug. That's_ why I'm doing this,_ she reminded herself. _I'm not letting this bottom feeder fuck me just for fun, I'm doing it for _that_, for _Zydrate_._ She reached up to take the vial, but just before her fingers closed around it, he pulled it out of her grasp. She tried to grab it again, but he raised it up as high over her as he could, taking it out of her reach.

They were still for a second. Amber tried to focus on the blue glow above her, not the fact that his cock felt so good inside her even though he wasn't even moving…

"Now hold still, damn it!" he snarled.

_Oh._

He didn't like that she was enjoying this. It made it difficult for him to pace himself. Well, wasn't that gentlemanly of him?

In _that_ case…

Amber took her gaze off the little glass vial and met Graverobber's eyes. She grinned at him, almost laughing at his problem, then lurched into a sitting position, wrapped both of her arms tightly around his head and neck, and crushed her lips against his.

Kissing really _wasn't_ part of Amber's normal routine, but if Graverobber was just on the verge of completely losing control, then one last push was more than warranted. She hesitated a moment to open her mouth against his - did the man even _bathe_? - but to her surprise, he didn't taste bad at all. He tasted good, even. Not _delicious_, but…good. Enough.

She rocked her hips against his, just enough that she felt him shudder, as she bruised his lips with the force of the kiss that he returned passionately. She felt his free hand tangle in her hair, pulling her harder against him. He was helpless right then, and she knew it - she could do anything to him, anything at all, and he wouldn't even notice.

So, she unwrapped her left arm from around his head, placed her hand on his shoulder, slowly ran her way up his upraised arm, intertwined her fingers with his around the vial of Zydrate, then yanked it out of his hand, pulling her mouth away from his in the same instant to grin at him triumphantly. Stupid son of a bitch, he shouldn't have let his guard down.

Amber was sorely tempted to just struggle her way out of his grip - even call her bodyguards to help her - and take the Zydrate without finishing this; Graverobber would be her slave if she stopped him halfway through and he never got to cum, and she would have everything she wanted. And yet…she didn't _want_ to stop. He felt so good…Besides, she hadn't driven him over the edge yet, hadn't forced him to completely lose control, and that wasn't something she could let slide.

So she would finish it. Just as a power play. That was all. Not because she wanted to stay with him and keep fucking him for her own pleasure…

As Graverobber's arm came down, Amber placed the little glass vial on the pavement beside them, then flicked it with the tip of her finger, not taking her eyes off of Graverobber as his gaze followed the rolling vial of drugs until it hit the wall with a soft _clink!_ He looked at her then, utterly bewildered. They looked in each other's eyes, Amber grinned at him…and then they grabbed at each other, drawing each other crushingly close and locking their lips in a bruising kiss, and started fucking each other mindlessly.

Amber let herself go for once, for the most part - the more out of control she went, the more Graverobber lost his own self-control, after all. That made sense, right? She bit his lip, his neck, digging her nails into his back like claws, gasping and squeezing him with every muscle in her body. She didn't give herself over completely, though, as she still didn't want him to make her cum, not him of all people. But no matter how hard she worked him, no matter how passionately she returned his touches, his kisses, his thrusts, he still somehow kept going. Now it was Amber who had to struggle with every ounce of self-control she had to hold back her orgasm…and her self-control wasn't nearly as strong or trained as Graverobber's.

Unable to fight it anymore, she tore her mouth away from Graverobber's and screamed as she came, the release incredible, powerful, _mind-bending_.

Sweet. Delicious. Fuck.

A few moments later, she heard him roar even louder than she had and felt him cum inside her, filling her. An extra surge of pleasure augmented her climax, making her cry out again, as it went on, and on…

She didn't relax into him when she was finished; instead, she struggled out from under him as soon and as quickly as she could. He slumped to the ground heavily, as though unconscious, and she couldn't help but smirk at the sight. Her bodyguards, who of course had heard her, came jogging down either side of the alley, and she held out her hands and almost gratefully allowed them to help her up - she didn't trust herself on her feet just then.

One of the guards looked at Graverobber, almost as though he was about to nudge the prone dealer to check if he was still alive.

"Oh, don't worry about him, he's fine," Amber told her guard. She thought for a moment, then revised, "He might not be able to walk for a few minutes, but he'll be fine." She chuckled.

Then Graverobber let out a very pitiful groan, and Amber saw his fingertips twitch. He looked and sounded so utterly pathetic, she couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Well, well, look who's awake," she said mockingly. With her bodyguards' support, she walked over to him, then crouched down and put her mouth right by his ear. "That was fun, Graverobber," she said softly; "let's do it again sometime." On a sudden burst of inspiration, she quickly swiped her tongue behind his ear, his helpless moan her reward.

She laughed again as she grabbed the vial of Zydrate on the ground, then stood up. "Come on, boys," she said to her bodyguards as they lent her their support so she could walk; "I don't know if I have enough time to get cut again before the Z gathering, but it's worth checking to find out." Because that was what was _really_ important - her next surgery.

…Right?

She wanted to believe that, but as she proceeded back through the alleys, she couldn't help but dwell on what had just happened. Amber Sweet had forgotten more fucks than most people get to have in their entire lifetime, but the more she (unwillingly) thought about it, the more she was forced to acknowledge the one hundred percent certain, unquestionable, undeniable fact that what she had just done with Graverobber had by far been the best sex of her life.

And that made no fucking sense.

He hadn't done anything special, nor was he any_one_ special; on the contrary, she should have been _repulsed_ by his touch, the filthy bum. But damn it all to hell, he had felt _so good_…

_Why?_ Amber kept wondering. _Why did I enjoy him so much? Why did having him inside me make me feel so…so…_alive_?*_

Getting frustrated with herself, Amber turned to anger to protect her from the possible implications of where her mind was going. Something had happened to make him stop wanting her, had forced her to fuck him in the first place, and she wondered what it had been. _It had better not have been a person, because if it was, and I ever meet them, they're going to wish that they had never been born,_ Amber thought wrathfully, completely unaware of just how very right - and how very wrong - she would turn out to be.

* * *

***Heh heh heh…"Somehow, I guess I just knew…but I didn't know I'd love you so much."**


End file.
